Chapter Five. IT WAS PRECISELY nine a.m

IT WAS PRECISELY nine a.m. when Melanie reached for the doorknob to answer the brisk knock. Taylor smiled brightly, looking fresh-faced and sunny in her navy blue gym shorts and bright yellow T-shirt. Her white socks accentuated the beginnings of a tan on her legs, and Melanie noticed Taylor's hair was still slightly damp when it had been pulled back and fastened behind her head.

" Do you always shower before you work out? " she asked.

Taylor's smile faltered slightly, and the pink tint from the previous evening returned in full force, creeping slowly up her neck.

" Um... no. Not always." She decided an immediate subject change was in order. " Ready to go? "

" Well, I have a small problem. Sam didn't come home last night."

" Surprise, surprise."

" I can't get into the bookstore."

" Sure you can." Taylor slipped through the doorway and into the kitchen, Melanie on her heels. She opened one of the cupboards to reveal several hooks supporting various sets of keys. Each had its own label, neatly printed in block letters. " Jeff Mason may have been an idiot, but he was an organized idiot." She handed the keys marked STORE to Melanie with a grin. " Ready now? "

" You're a lifesaver."

" Nah. Just observant."

Sunday morning traffic was minimal as they tooled along in Taylor's Honda Civic with the sunroof open, the sun reflecting off of their sunglasses.

" How'd you sleep? " Taylor asked.

" Great, once I actually closed my eyes. It's so quiet, nothing like the city."

Taylor nodded her dark head in agreement. " I know what you mean. I used to have a studio right downtown. It didn't matter what time it was, there was always some sort of sound. I'm still not used to being back in the suburbs yet. So, need coffee? "

Melanie's eyes lit up. " Do I."

They were sitting in line at the McDonald's drive-thru when Melanie noticed the small, metal ring dangling from the rearview mirror. It had some sort of design carved into it, accented by light blue dots. " What's this? "

" It's a chakram."

" Chakram? "

" Ever watch Xena? "

" Xena? Is that the sword-fighting Greek god show? I think I caught a glimpse of it once or twice, but I couldn't figure out what all the hype was about. This is that round thing she throws around, right? "

Taylor shook her head in mock-disappointment, tsking as she pulled back onto the road. " Melanie, Melanie, Melanie. I see you're in need of enlightenment."

" I am? "

" I'm afraid so. It's important that you understand the phenomenon that is Xena."

" Really." Melanie grinned. " Why is it important? "

" Because I say it is."

They grinned at each other for several seconds, before Melanie nodded.

" Okay. Enlighten me."

Loving the flirty, albeit unintentional, tone of Melanie's voice, but deciding she wasn't going to touch that one with a ten foot pole, Taylor stayed on the subject. " Tell you what. I have every episode on tape—"

" Every episode? " Melanie's eyes widened.

" As any good Xenite does."

" I see."

" I'll lend you the first few so you can get a feel for the story. After that, I'll leave it up to you. If you want to see more, say the word."

Melanie laughed heartily. " You've got yourself a deal."

Taylor smiled with satisfaction as she pulled the little red car to a halt alongside the curb. " I believe this is your stop, young lady."

Melanie looked up, surprised. The ride had been much quicker than she'd expected, but she had a feeling it was due to the company and not the distance traveled.

The short block held just one long building, which was subdivided into three individual shops, the bookstore being in the center.

Its storefront was not exactly eye-catching, although it was sandwiched between two shops that were, making it look even duller than it actually was. The large wooden-framed glass door stood alcoved between two oversized display windows facing the sidewalk. The trim, and essentially the front of the store, was in dire need of a paint job. What used to be a chocolate brown was badly chipped and peeling, revealing a frightful shade of yellow underneath. A crooked, wooden sign, obviously hand-lettered by somebody who was not a sign painter, announced that this was Mason's Books.

Now there's a creative name, Melanie thought to herself, the marketer in her shaking its head in disgust. Yup, makes me wanna run right in and buy a whole stack of books.

Her gaze rested on a sheet of paper taped to the door from the inside. It read " Closed Due To Cheating Husband."

" Oh, that's good for business, " she sighed, opening the car door.

Taylor chuckled. " Hell hath no fury, blah, blah, blah. Your key fits both the front and back doors. Do you need anything before I head to the gym? "

Melanie smiled gratefully at this woman she'd known for one whole day, sorry to see her go. " No. I'll be fine." She got out and shut the car door, leaning down to peer into the open window. " Thank you, Taylor, for carting me around. You've been great."

Taylor pulled her sunglasses down to the end of her nose so Melanie could see her smiling eyes. " It's been my pleasure." They held each other's gaze for several long seconds before Taylor pushed the shades back into place with her finger. " I'll be back in about an hour and a half."

" I'll be here."

Melanie watched the car pull away, then turned toward the task at hand.

MELANIE WAS PLEASANTLY surprised by Mason's Books, despite its lackluster first impression, which was not improved by the musty smell that assaulted her when she opened the door, and its unimaginative name. The inside was bigger than she'd expected, with big rays of bright sunshine pouring through the front windows and lots of rich, dark wood, which gave it a great deal of character; it actually bordered on charming. The marketer in her perked up and took notice.

The door opened into the center of the shop, which, in total, wasn't much bigger than a large, two-car garage. Directly forward, at the back of the shop, she could see a small, electronic cash register on a wooden countertop jutting out from the rear wall in an L-shape. All of the bookshelves, Melanie counted four rows, including the two outside walls, and half the back wall, were made of the same polished wood as the floor and the doorframe. There were two overstuffed burgundy chairs tucked away in corners like naughty children. She realized the little shop actually had a library feel to it. She was immediately comfortable there, much to her surprise.

Unsure exactly where to begin her task of " checking the place out, " she decided Sam and Jeff's paperwork was probably the best starting point. She followed one of the two freestanding bookshelves to the back wall in search of an office of some sort, leaving a very noticeable finger mark in the thick dust along the way. She wasn't sure if Sam ever dusted, or if the shop had been closed much longer than she originally thought. Knowing her cousin, either explanation was possible.

The office, which seemed to double as a stock room, was located at the very back of the shop, behind the cash register, and smelled of dust and fast food leftovers. It was small, with barely enough room for an undersized desk that was littered with a half-eaten cheeseburger and fries, a two drawer filing cabinet, and several boxes of apparently new books. A miniscule rest room containing the very barest of necessities was squeezed into a back corner. It looked as though it hadn't been scrubbed in months.

A handful of three ring binders was lined up on a shelf above the desk. Upon quick examination, Melanie found them to be inventory and ordering records. The filing cabinet revealed receipts and check stubs, as well as accounts payable records. She pulled several folders, cleaned the top of the desk of the food remnants, as well as four half-consumed cans of Diet Pepsi, and sat down with the information.

Noticing a small clock radio, she tuned it to the first station that came in clearly. Tapping her fingernail to Madonna's Like A Prayer, she opened the binder labeled Inventory.

MUCH TO Taylor’s own dismay, it seemed she had become one of those women she used to laugh at, the kind nearly addicted to working out. It hadn’t been a planned thing. Maggie hated the gym, and when things were falling apart between them, the gym was simply a place of refuge where Taylor could go to be alone with her thoughts. Or, as was more often the case, it was a place she could go to crank up her headphones so she couldn’t hear her thoughts.

After several months, though, she noticed subtle changes in her body. Pleasing changes. The tightening, not to mention the definition, of muscles, the higher level of energy, the increase in overall strength. She was surprised to discover that she actually liked working out. Craved it. Once she had made the break from Maggie, she still found herself at the gym three times a week, using the visits to work her body as well as clear her mind.

Today, the thoughts filling her head to the point of spilling out her ears were all orbiting around the same subject: Melanie. Taylor shook her head with a wry grin as she pushed against the steps of the Stairmaster, sweating as she climbed her way to nowhere. It had been quite some time since she had clicked so easily with somebody. Melanie seemed just as comfortable with her, judging from dinner last night and this morning’s ride. Was Melanie flirting with her on purpose? Was she even aware that she was flirting? For that matter, was she gay? Taylor didn’t think so. Samantha had made Taylor’s sexuality painfully clear yesterday when she’d first introduced them and it would be just like her to out Melanie in a similar, immediate fashion, for shock value, if nothing else. The fact that she hadn’t done so told Taylor that Melanie was straight.

I’ll just have to watch myself, she thought with determination. It was such a lesbian cliché; the gay girl falling for the straight girl she could never have. It was a cliché that Taylor would like to avoid at all costs.

What was it about Sam’s cousin anyway? Sure, she was very attractive. She was very, very attractive, but so what? So were a lot of women Taylor had contact with almost every day. Aside from the occasional fantasy, she didn’t find herself spending her workout analyzing what it was about them that she found so attractive.

It wasn't like she'd had so much experience with women that she had no trouble reading them. She hadn't actually come out until her senior year in college, a mere five years ago. Other than a few casual flings, Maggie was her only real relationship, and what a disastrous model to follow. Truth be told, she hadn't the foggiest idea how tell if a woman was interested in her, unless, of course, they used the old neon-sign-on-the-forehead trick. Taylor was pretty sure she'd catch that.

Before she could dwell more on the subject, her mind shifted to focus on the ad playing through her headphones. A young man and young woman were discussing the benefits of a nearby community college. Both sounded painfully like they were reading from a piece of paper, coming off so incredibly scripted, that it left a bad taste in Taylor's mouth.

Ugh, she grimaced, making a mental note to mention the ad to Jason tomorrow. He was the newest sales rep at the station, and Taylor had more or less taken him under her wing. He had great sales potential and he was a very likable guy, but he was still leery of being firmer with the talent when they didn't deliver. The local college was his account, and she was amazed that his client had approved the ad before it aired.

With the onset of that train of thought, Melanie was quietly transferred to a back burner while Taylor wasn't paying attention.